The Kind that Only Siblings Can
by percabethanpuckabrinaforevs
Summary: The brave, talented, strong, independent, Black Widow is sick. And Tony might just find a part of him he didn't know existed. They might be a little OCC, so sorry about that. Please read and review!


**I got a bunch of positive feedback from Agent Clint, so I decided to write a little bit more.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers.**

Natasha coughed a bit, and then continued to lug some heavy shopping bags full of weapons to her bedroom. For once, she was grateful that Clint was away on a solo mission for a week. He would be able to see right through the tough-girl act she was putting on and realize that she was sick. Natasha never liked to admit weaknesses, and so when she was sick, she continued on until someone forced her to let someone else take care of her. It was the way of her life, since Russia.

Thor passed her, nodding once to acknowledge her presence. Normally, he would have stopped and chatted, in his thunderous voice, but ever since Tony had shown him the uses of an iPod, he rarely spoke to anyone. Occasionally, he would shock them all by singing along to a song that he had heard numerous times, and learned the lyrics to.

Natasha pushed on, determined to make it up to her room with all of the bags. She forced her mind to think only of the mission, but a crack in her resolve allowed stray thoughts to wander in.

How long had she felt slightly under the weather? (By under the weather, she meant hit by a train, but she would never even admit that to herself.) Well, Clint had left on Saturday morning, and she'd begun to feel a headache coming on by Saturday evening. It was now Wednesday. So, about four to five days. She gritted her teeth. She'd survived worse. Just because she now lived in the Avengers Tower, with all the equipment for luxury, did not mean she would get used to it. A top spy like her couldn't get used to it. She couldn't afford to get used to anything she might miss on a mission. As it was, she was wearing her pajamas, planning to shower later. She needed to get back into routine, living with only what she needed.

It was the first time in two days that Tony had appeared from his lab. He had finally left when Pepper had demanded to see him. She was out, taking care of a sick relative, and today was the only day she would be free to see him, so they'd arranged a date. Well, Pepper had arranged the date, and Tony had tried to listen in between playing with expensive technology.

He'd showered up, and was in jeans and an old T-shirt, ready to lounge around for a bit until getting ready for the date time presented itself.

"Sir?" Jarvis cut into his thoughts.

"Yes, Jarvis?" He sighed, wondering which wall Steve had broken this time, east or west.

"There is something you might want to see." Jarvis explained.

Tony took a detour toward the elevator. "Which wall was it this time?"

"It is not in the gym." Jarvis surprised him. "It is in the living room, with the flat screen TV."

They all had a flat screen TV, but Tony knew which one Jarvis was talking about. The worry in Jarvis's voice worried Tony, and before he knew it, he was racing down the halls making various battle strategies and assessing how quick he could get into his Iron Man suit.

The living room seemed empty when he got there, however.

"Jarvis, what's the problem?" He demanded.

"Sir, please look down."

Tony did, and what he saw nearly shocked the skin off of him. Natasha Romanoff, a.k.a, Black Widow, one of the world's greatest spy and assassin, was lying on the ground, unusually pale, muttering something. Her eyes were glassy, and there were a bunch of shopping bags strewn around her. She'd obviously dropped them, and they were filled with a bunch of dangerous weapons.

Tony cleared his throat nervously. "Jarvis? Tell Dr. Banner to report to Agent Romanoff's bedroom."

"Yes, sir."

Tony crossed over to Natasha. He braced himself for a kick to the head when he approached, but none came. He eased himself down next to her.

"Hey, Anastasia?" He cleared his throat, hoping the disliked nickname would snap her out of her reverie, if that's what this was.

"Spidey? Widow? Black Widow? Tasha? Natasha, please get up. Haha, very funny. Get up now. Please." Tony looked down at her, as Natasha's eyes focused on nothing.

He gingerly touched her cheek, waiting for her to blow, but she didn't. He touched her head-then yanked his hand back.

"Ouch!" Her forehead was scorching hot! No wonder she was like this. She had a fever. And he knew enough about medicine to realize that she hadn't had it treated for a few days, that's why her body was now shutting down, trying to save as much energy as it could.

"Stupid women, always trying to look brave." Tony muttered under his breath, not caring if whatever he said sounded sexist or not. He was frustrated, and whenever he couldn't destroy things with his hands, he used his words.

In a split second decision, Tony leaned down and wrapped his arms around Natasha, lifting her up. He carried her down to her room, which was one floor below. For this emergency, he was glad the elevator hadn't shut down.

He kicked her door open, and entered. He had never been in Natasha's room before, even before she'd moved in. It was light, the curtains were pulled back, and the bed was neatly made. The closet door was slightly ajar, and he could see a wide variety of clothing hanging there, waiting for the moment Natasha needed to slip undercover. Besides that, there was nothing to adorn the room. The only decorations were a small book by the bed, and one bottle of perfume on the dresser. Tony knew from experience that the "perfume" was really a gas to knock out anyone who would try to attack, and that hidden cleverly within the book was a sharp dagger. He was also sure that within the mattress and room, other weapons were concealed.

He laid Natasha down on the bed gently and pulled the blanket around her, tucking her in.

Not a moment later, Bruce showed up. He knocked on Natasha's door nervously.

"Um, knock-knock?" He said quietly.

"Who's there?" Tony called out, opening the door wider and motioning him in.

"The good doctor." Bruce murmured, catching sight of a very pale, white Natasha. "Oh, dear."

"The good doctor who?" Tony refused to acknowledge the seriousness of the issue.

"The good doctor, who needs you step out for a moment." Bruce answered, setting up his doctor stuff.

Tony sighed, upset that he wouldn't be able to watch Bruce perform miracles, but he quickly left the "good doctor" to his work, curing their friend.

A moment turned into several moments, which then turned into an hour. Tony had gotten something to eat, and informed Steve of Natasha's problem. For the time being, they decided to let Thor go.

"Does she need anything?" Steve asked instantly taking over the role of 'big brother.' Tony felt jealous. Although he would never admit it to anyone, he privately liked to think of himself as Nat's adopted Avenger older brother.

"I don't know yet. The good doctor hasn't let me in yet." Tony scowled.

"We shouldn't badger him." Steve lectured. "He's trying to fix Natasha, and if we bother him, she won't get better soon."

Tony instantly felt bad. What kind of a big brother was he?

It was as though Steve could read his mind. "You're a great man, Tony. You were the one who found her, and cared enough to take her back to her room, instead of asking Jarvis or one of your other machine doo-hickey things to fix it. You're a great Avenger older brother."

"You know…" Tony took a deep breath. "I once had a friend who had six older brothers. Who's to say Nat can't have two?"

Steve grinned, and the two of them smiled at each other. Now they had one more thing in common: a little sister who didn't need to be taken care of, but now needed them more than ever.

So then it was two of them waiting outside, silently, for Bruce too come out and announce that she was okay. Tony called Pepper and explained everything that was happening, ending with canceling their date. Pepper understood. She always understood.

Finally, Bruce stepped outside.

"She's asleep, but the best I can do was that it was a simple fever gone wrong. If she had rested the first day that she had this, she would have been fine, but the amount of things she did was absolutely ridiculous, and now her body is shutting down. She needs as much rest as she can possibly get, and peace and quiet. Oh, and she'll be unnaturally weak for a little while. Don't be surprised if she needs to be fed her food, or if she would appreciate being massaged." Bruce took a deep breath, letting his 'doctor voice' fade as he returned to just being Bruce. "Oh, goodness. I was so scared. Being a doctor is tough, but it's even harder when you personally know the patient. All I could think about was how I'd better not screw up, or the other guy would find some way to kill me, without killing himself so that he could run on a rampage and freak out about her. And how much I would miss her."

The last sentence was barely whispered, but both Steve and Tony caught it. Tony glanced at Steve, who merely nodded.

"Okay, Nat can have three older brothers." Tony decided.

Bruce looked confused. "What?"

While Steve did his best to explain, Tony hurried into the bedroom.

Natasha had never looked so vulnerable in Tony's eyes, and he found it made her seem more human. He gently perched next to her, aware that Steve and Bruce were probably spying on him, each whispering to the other that they shouldn't be doing it.

"Hey, Nat." He whispered. He brushed a bit of her red hair off her face and stroked it behind her. "Get up sometime, okay? It'll be nice to see your death glare again."

He didn't know what to say beyond that, and eventually, Steve and Bruce entered cautiously, afraid that Tony might get angry at them for disrupting his train of thought.

Steve cleared his throat. He looked at Tony for permission, who nodded to let him know he could speak.

"Be okay, Natasha. Clint might kill us all if you're not up and running comes Sunday."

Tony and Bruce laughed quietly at Steve's small joke; it was so rare that he ever cracked one.

Natasha didn't stir, and they decided to leave to grab some dinner. Then, they retired to their bedrooms for the night. Except, Tony did something that even surprised himself, again.

He asked Bruce for all the medicines, and everything that would have to be done during the night, that Bruce had planned to do himself, and pulled over a mattress next to Natasha. He asked Jarvis to wake him up when needed, and he spent the night taking care of Natasha.

The next morning, worn out, Steve insisted he go back to his own bedroom and get a good night's worth of sleep. So, he slept until noon, then got up, got ready, and returned to Nat's side.

That was how the next two days went, except with a different person at night, until finally, it happened. Natasha woke up.

It had happened while they were all gathered near her, even Thor. Bruce had been telling a touching tale of an Indian girl that he had met on his travels, when Natasha stirred slightly. Startled, they'd all leaped up, unsure what to do. Her eyes fluttered open, and it was clear that she was exhausted.

"I'm hungry." She whimpered pitifully.

Instantly, Bruce grabbed some of his tomato soup that he had placed to the side, intending to stick in the fridge until Thor found it.

Tony took the soup from him, and gently lifted the spoon to her lips. She looked uncomfortable at having him feed her, especially _Tony _out of all the Avengers, but she took the food without a fight. She must have been famished.

"That's a good girl." Tony murmured other encouraging phrases as she filled her stomach.

Once she was done, Bruce stood up, to do some more tests to see what more could be done to speed along the process of healing.

"Just rest." He finally announced to the anxious group.

"Where's Clint?" Natasha asked sleepily.

Tony ruffled her hair affectionately. "He'll be home soon."

Natasha accepted the answer, and her eyes slowly began to droop. One by one, the Avengers crept out of the door, leaving only Tony, since it was his turn to stay with her.

And the days continued like that, until she grew stronger. Clint was flying home in the evening of Sunday, so Sunday morning she asked Bruce if he would mind changing her sheets and comforter while she showered, so it didn't look like her illness was that bad. Bruce agreed, although he didn't look happy.

She pulled on a different pair of pajamas, and went back to her bed, since she was confined to her room.

Tony came down and sat with her while Steve and Thor went to go pick him up from the helicarrier. If S.H.I.E.L.D was such a great organization, then why did they have to go and pick up Clint? Tony pondered on this for a while, but then he quickly abandoned his deep philosophical questions for making faces.

It was the first time he'd ever heard Natasha giggle. And he found he liked the sound, a lot.

When Clint arrived, he looked tired, but content. At least, until he saw Natasha. He asked Tony if he would leave them alone for a few minutes.

They all eavesdropped behind the shut door.

"Natasha Romanoff! How can you keep doing this to yourself?" And for once, Clint sounded angry. Really, really mad. Tony was thankful that his secret power wasn't a Hulk.

Clint finished his loud lecture in Russian, but they got the gist of it. Someone had to be the parental figure in their dysfunctional family, and it looked like for now, it was Clint. Although Tony did wonder how long that would last. Clint was notorious for being a great prankster.

"You guys can come back in now." Clint called, using English, this time.

Sheepishly, they entered again.

"Hey, Nat." Tony said suddenly. "You have four brothers and a dad."

Amid confused looks from everyone, even those who understood the 'four brothers' part, he and Natasha shared a special look. The kind that only siblings can.


End file.
